


The Reed and the Olive Tree

by zephfair



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Anachronistic feminism, Angst, Drama, F/M, Laura is my hero, Not quite hurt/comfort, Riario has guilt, Sexual Content, Some mention of the events of Episode 6, Spoilers for Season 3 Episodes 7 and 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephfair/pseuds/zephfair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura tries to help Riario learn that alliances can be most advantageous and forgiveness is freeing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reed and the Olive Tree

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS FOR EPISODES 7 AND 8. This fic is set directly after episode 7 and refers heavily to events that occur in episode 8. 
> 
> This is part Laura character appreciation and part dirty porn. 
> 
> This is dedicated to [ IdrisEleven](http://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisEleven/pseuds/IdrisEleven) because she is too good and too precious for this world. You've been a wonderful encouragement to me; thank you for being such a dear!

Riario hesitates outside the tent, uncharacteristically unsure about whether he should proceed. He had visited Laura every night they traveled on the dusty roads around Italy, but now, after a long, emotional day of leaving Florence, he's not sure if he will be welcome. He catches the lie himself—he is not sure if he will be _wanted_ after everything that happened in Florence.

The decision whether to announce himself is taken away when the tent flap is brushed aside and Laura peeks out. “I thought you might be out there, Girolamo. Please, won't you come in?”

He quirks a smile at her, can't resist reacting to her kindness and generosity, and steps into the tent. She has obviously been getting ready to retire. She wears a loose gown covered by a long robe, and her hair is unbound from its braid, loosely waving around her face, her hairbrush still in her hand.

Although she takes a seat and resumes brushing her hair, Riario feels too uncomfortable at the intimate setting and slowly drifts around the tent, looking at but not seeing the various small amenities she has brought along to make the trip more comfortable.

“Everything is well in the camp, I trust?” she asks, and he nods, knowing that she is aware that he cannot sleep until he has checked on the entire camp himself, even though he has lieutenants who are capable. She surprises him by adding, “I know it is your nature to be cautious and sure, and that nature is what seems to be causing your trouble now.”

He looks up at her, and she smiles, gesturing him to the chair next to her, and he finally obeys, his knee brushing hers as he sits. She turns to the small table at her other side and pours wine for them both, handing one cup to him.

“The nights we've spent sharing wine and talking have been an extraordinary comfort to me in this journey,” she confides, and he can't help but agree while carefully keeping his attention on the wine. He can feel her watching him, but he can't quite find the courage to say what he needs to.

Again, she seems to read his mind and speaks first. “Something is troubling you. Please, tell me this isn't about last night.”

He shakes his head quickly, remembering the beauty of the quiet moment he and Laura shared in the Medici palace and the kiss that left him stunned yet pleased. She seems to be talented at surprising him.

She reaches over and squeezes his hand to get his attention. “You have come here many nights to plan and chat, but this time, I was afraid you might stay away to preserve some quaint idea of propriety,” she says, her smile bright but knowing. Riario is struck with an odd sense of shyness and he doesn't want to meet her eyes.

“That is partly why I hesitate to speak with you, Signora,” he begins. “While it is true we shared something in Florence, I must insist that it cannot happen again.”

“You regret it,” Laura says after a long moment of silence.

“Never,” he says, finally meeting her eyes squarely in his truth.

“Then what is our problem?” 

“There are complications.” 

Laura sighs. “I have told you that I trust you. I harbor no anger or fear of you.” 

“It is not that, there are other … considerations.”

“If this is about your relationship with Signore da Vinci...” Riario looks up sharply at her completely unexpected comment. She raises an eyebrow. “Come now, Girolamo, both you boys believe I'm so delicate and sheltered, but I have seen more in this world than the two of you can know.”

“That's not— it is not he who— I don't—” Riario can't quite gather a thought to voice his confusion.

“My dear, anyone with eyes can see the way Leonardo looks at you, and we all know the way you never stop speaking of him. He's very attractive, of course, when he's cleaned up, and he's obviously brilliant. The two of you would never lack for conversation. I told you when you introduced him in Rome that he intrigues me, and that has only grown.” 

Riario shakes his head, not even sure what he is disagreeing with, only knowing that it is all going wrong. 

“Girolamo, you stood up to your father and risked his wrath repeatedly to win favor for da Vinci. You never disagree with His Holiness, but you didn't think twice before taking Leonardo's side. Then there's the way he took care of you, protected you. He fought so hard to save you, and really, it's more than a bit obvious how you both feel.” 

Riario feels heat rising in his cheeks and he wants to rise and escape the tent, but her hand on his grounds him as she speaks again. “But, your feelings for him aside—” 

“I have no feelings,” he finally interrupts.

“Girolamo,” she says sternly, “I do not mind your dalliance with your artista. He is, indeed, a dear friend of us both, I hope, for the miracle he has managed to work in you and the salvation he offers Italy. He has my everlasting gratitude, and if that means that I must share you with him, well, I can think of no better person to trust with you.”

He is dumbfounded, shocked to silence and won't meet her eyes again, and Laura seems to finally understand. “Oh, my darling, you two haven't …?” 

“We have not and will not,” Riario says firmly even as a look passes over her face. Riario thinks she looks sorrowful? saddened? for a moment.

“I am sorry you have not managed to find one another yet. You never know what is planned in this world, and you will learn, if you haven't already, how we need to take advantage of any opportunity. Love can take many forms,” she says.

Riario pulls his hand away this time and sets down the wine, but he is not thinking of da Vinci. He has truly enjoyed his time with Laura. She is an admirable woman, unlike many of the others he had met through the Church. He didn't have to put on an act of fake courtesy or false show of politeness—she saw through all of that since she'd been forced to act much the same way for her business her entire adult life. She seems to like him when he is simply himself, forked tongue, acid wit and all.

Even now as he tries to make himself get up and leave, she only watches him, a tender look on her face, and lets him make up his own mind. He still can't believe that she wants to be with him, even after she'd seen the darkest and worst part of him. It almost overwhelms him, that kind of faith.

Her faith was one of the most attractive things about her. Riario was surrounded—literally—by men professing to have faith, and yet he could never be honest and talk about his doubts and questions with any of them. But she… she had taken the time to listen and reassure him, and in that moment in the Vatican chapel, he had felt renewed and no longer so alone.

She wasn't demanding anything from him like his father, the Church or The Labyrinth. She wasn't pursuing him for selfish motivations or to further any personal, nefarious plot except to help the crusade that she believed in and was fighting for every bit as hard as he. She wasn't looking for a way to curry favor with the pope or using him to further her own ends.

“You are very different,” he says finally, and her eyebrow raises. “As a woman, the softer sex,” and Riario suddenly feels he is on thin ice from the expression on her face.

“I have always loathed that expression, 'the softer sex,'” Laura says with as much contempt as she can put in her voice. “Men always enjoy relegating us to that position, or any position where we are out of their way or beneath them.” She takes a long sip of wine. “You may think you've had great difficulties in life from being born a bastard. It could be worse; you could have been born a woman. You could spend your entire life fighting for respect but being subjugated not because of the brains in your head but merely because of what's between your legs. Or rather, what is not between your legs.”

Riario is ashamed at what he started to say, but he's not sure how to make it better. He knows that women are just as capable as men, and if he's ever had any doubt, all he has to do is look at Laura.

She simply knew what she wanted and she went after it—politely and diplomatically yet firmly. She got what she wanted through dealing, influencing and working with people better than he ever could. Her means were proving far more effective than his when he tried to bribe, threaten and blackmail. He had watched her manipulate His Holiness to get her way, taking her losses with grace then digging in and working harder to do what she believed was right. She had to work twice or three times as hard simply because she had to overcome so much more prejudice in a society that looked down at women as inferior.

“I am sorry,” Riario decides a sincere apology is the best thing he can do. “I did not mean to offend you. I only meant to say that it seems you have an infinite supply of forgiveness, which is a trait that appears to be limited to women.”

Laura sniffs but her expression softens. “I assure you my supply of forgiveness extends only to you, and I know I am not the only one with a spare measure of patience for you.”

Riario wonders whom she refers to when Leonardo's face flashes in his mind. “I betrayed da Vinci as well,” he admits quietly. He knows Laura doesn't know everything that transpired with The Labyrinth and how he turned over Leonardo to them to be tortured, but he feels like he must confess something. It is another reason for da Vinci to deny any feelings to him.

“And yet, he took you in and protected you repeatedly, healed you in a miraculous way.” Riario shakes his head again, and Laura mutters something under her breath that might be “stubborn, wool-headed men.”

Then she speaks louder, “If you are denying me, denying us, a chance at more than friendship, and it is not because of da Vinci, then what excuse were you planning to offer me?” 

Riario struggles to find his voice and his former argument. “I cannot, after all the evil I have committed, expect your trust or any kind of affection. My sins are too many.”

“Girolamo, I have told you I forgive you. And does the Scripture not say that the merciful Lord Himself has not only forgiven your sins but will remember them no more? How can you continue to bring them to mind when He says he has forgotten your iniquities?”

“I dare not challenge Him,” Riario begins wryly, but his voice cracks, “but I cannot help but wonder: have I truly repented? I have confessed my sin, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, but I have not faced a true punishment for my actions. How can things be the same now as they were before? How can you look at me knowing—”

“I look at you as the man you are. The man you cannot see in yourself right now.” And just like before, she is the one to step forward. Although he tries to get up, she pushes him back down and sits across his lap, running her fingers through his long fringe, exposing his eyes and looking down into them. “I see you, Girolamo, and I very much like what I see.”

Then she is kissing him. It is different from everyone he's ever kissed, and he pushes back the thoughts and memories of Zita and her intoxicating kisses. And the last time he'd kissed her lips as she lay dying in the horrors of the New World. The memory threatens to overwhelm him, and Riario wonders if he can concentrate on the woman pressed against him.

He tries to focus on how different Laura is, and he finds her kisses aren't as proper or staid like he would have imagined, if he'd dare to fantasize about her before the previous night. Her kiss is lovely and warm, and he closes his eyes to enjoy the feeling of her lips. Then she runs her tongue across his bottom lip and teases it into his mouth, and the kiss turns more demanding as she kneads his shoulders and runs her hands over his chest. 

“Take me to bed,” she whispers, and he starts in surprise but she kisses him again, her nimble fingers already working to unfasten his doublet. He catches her hands and stills them, brings them to his lips and kisses her fingers. 

“Are you sure of this?” He has to be positive that she wants him, even as his pulse leaps and he longs against all good reason to obey her.

“I am quite sure that I want you,” she replies in a voice nearly as low and rough as his.

It makes him shiver, and he grabs her waist tightly, pulling her even closer as he claims her mouth. Her small fingers dig into his shoulders hard, and he starts to pull back fearing he hurt her. Then he realizes she is urging him on when she licks into his mouth again and moans. He kisses over to her ear, feels her heartbeat pulsing quickly in her neck, kisses it reverently. His fingers had not left marks on her ivory skin, but he kisses down to where he'd clutched her throat in his madness, and the emotional pain sweeps through him again.

Laura seems to feel that something triggers him to stop, so she runs her fingers through his hair, cupping the back of his head and urging him closer. When he only breathes heavily on her neck, she takes both hands and tilts his face up, holding it and stroking along his cheekbones. When she is sure she has his full attention, she leans down slowly and kisses him again until his thoughts are filled only with her and the pressure that is growing in his trousers. 

When Laura slowly slides off his lap to stand, Riario finds himself trying to pull her back. “Come with me, Girolamo,” she invites, holding out her hand, and he is reaching for her before he can even think. She smiles, warm and delighted, and leads him to her bed.

He finds out what he should have guessed about Laura—she is passionate and fiery under her calm demeanor, and she knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. He huffs out a little laugh as she demonstrates how well she knows male clothing as she begins to strip him efficiently out of his many layers. She smirks at him, and he shakes his head when she reaches for his trouser laces.

“I fear that I am not as familiar with women's attire,” he murmurs against her lips and runs his hands down the open panels of her robe. He can't resist cupping her breasts over the thin gown, rubbing his thumb gently over a nipple until it peaks and she moans quietly into his mouth. 

It is heady, he thinks, having this much power in his hands, able to make such a strong woman react to his touch. He breaks the kiss and bends his head toward her chest, but she stops him and guides his hands to help her slip off the robe. In the dim light, Riario can just make out the silhouette of her body through the gown, and it arouses him even more when he realizes she is wearing nothing underneath. She keeps her eyes locked on his as she unties the front of the gown, then slowly slides it off one shoulder.

He reaches out, puts his hand over hers, and together they remove the gown, letting it slide first off her shoulders and then to her waist and Riario has to grab her bare skin and pull her into another kiss. She smiles against the kiss, perhaps pleased that he is finally taking a more active role in this, and Riario touches her back, kisses her shoulder, feels the rub of her soft, smooth skin against his bare chest. When he feels his hardening cock buck against her stomach, he tries to angle his hips away, suddenly feeling indecent. But she will have none of it, and grabs his hips, pulling him fully against her as they continue to kiss.

Laura is first to sit on the bed and when she reaches for his laces this time, Riario lets her, looks down to watch her, feeling all his muscles tighten when her hand smooths down his stomach and she opens his trousers. She meets his eyes as she pushes them down over his hips, and Riario swears he feels himself grow harder. There is a moment when his breath catches as she takes him in hand, when the thought of what had happened the first day they'd met pops into his mind, when she'd taken care of her husband's little … problem. 

She raises an eyebrow and comes close to rolling her eyes. “Really, my dear, I have plans for this,” she says, stroking him until Riario is thrusting into her touch and ready to embarrass himself.

“Now, will you join me?” She lets go of his cock and crawls back onto the bed, losing her gown completely as she turns around and he can enjoy the beauty of her entire body sprawled on the covers. Riario actually stumbles as he tries to take off his trousers without first removing his boots. Once he sits down and remedies the problem, Laura is curled up to his back, one hand sneaking up his abdomen to his chest. Her nails rake over his skin and the sensation goes right to his cock as he takes a deep breath. Her soft lips on his shoulder blade are almost his undoing, and as soon as he drops his boot, he is turning into her embrace. He takes her into his arms and she melts against him for a moment.

The she pulls him to lie down with her, and they kiss, Riario lying over her and almost afraid to touch more than her shoulder and her face. Laura runs her hands with abandon down his back as far as she can reach then up, between them, where she plucks at one of his nipples, making him gasp as it hardens. 

Riario takes the implied invitation, and his big hand cups her breast gently at first as he kisses all over her skin, soft and sweet, then he licks her nipple. At her encouraging moan, he suckles it, tonguing it then sucking harder, and her hips buck a little. When she pulls at the back of his hair, he obliges and moves to her other breast, but she only allows him a short suckle, enough to peak the nipple and make it tighten, before she guides his mouth away. 

He looks up into her eyes, and however aroused she is, he must look just as wrecked because she smiles at him and cards her fingers through his hair then gently urges him downward. Riario takes a shuddering breath and quirks a little smile at her. He has been holding her almost chastely, touches all above the waist, but now he slides one hand down her side, over her flank and continues to draw his fingers slowly down her hip and onward to her thigh. She makes a hum of satisfaction, and Riario turns his head to watch his hand's path down and over her flesh and finally, slowly, between her thighs. She makes a louder noise and he glances up at her, but her eyes are heavy and she nods and licks her lips.

Riario touches her heat, finds her wet and slick, and carefully finds his way to where it is even hotter to gently slide a finger inside her.

“Kiss me, Girolamo,” she whispers and he looks up at her again before realizing what she means. He shivers and lowers his head, starting his way with a wandering path like his hand had taken, kissing her soft stomach across to her hip bone and down to the top of her thigh. He feels a hard tug at his hair and looks up to see her eyes darker than they've ever been. “Kiss me,” she tells him again and he obeys this time without teasing.

The warmth and heady smell of her surrounds him as he kisses the top of her mound then flicks his tongue at the hard bud he finds. Her gasp and involuntary lift of hips lets him know he's on the right track, and he grasps her hip and lifts her so he can more easily reach that delicious part of her he's just discovering. 

He can't resist one long lick from where he's still touching her to the top of her mound and her response is so loud and gratifying that he does it again. Then he buries his head and loses himself, flicking his tongue along and between her lips, thumbing them open to gently suck, licking into her alongside his thrusting finger. That rewards him with a higher whine and a burst of more wetness, so he uses his quick tongue and supple fingers until Laura is almost mewling, writhing beneath him. She pulls his hair tightly and he doesn't want to stop, excited more than he'd ever dreamed by doing this, by having her unravel under his mouth. 

But she is insistent, and he turns his head to look up at her, but she only wants to guide him, her one hand holding against his fingers, keeping them penetrating her in a steady motion, and then she points his mouth toward the bud at the top of her mound. And he understands now, licking it first and feeling her start to twitch uncontrollably which only builds as he finally sucks it into his mouth and she comes apart with a loud cry. He feels her body quiver around his fingers, and he ruts his cock against the bedcover, aroused beyond belief at the thought of this woman, this elegant, confident, powerful woman allowing him to bring her this pleasure.

He is almost content to rub against the bedcover or take himself in hand, but Laura obviously has more in mind. She is struggling out from beneath him, and he worries he is crushing her, but then she is moving him to his back and climbing astride his hips. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes sparkling as she leans down to kiss him thoroughly, her breasts rubbing against his chest. She reaches for his cock and strokes him then pulls away from the kiss to murmur, “Oh, you did enjoy that, didn't you?”

And Riario can't feel any embarrassment because his body cannot tell her a lie, and she only smiles before she arches her body up and takes him inside.

There's that tense moment when he's unsure if it will work, sure her body will reject him, and then he feels her relax and her body accommodates and welcomes him in, and he almost cries at the thought that even her innermost has accepted him. Then he has to struggle to control himself before he comes as the melting heat and wet envelope him. The feeling of warmth and softness and just the perfect amount of tightness and friction is overwhelming. It gets even better when she exhales a long breath and starts to move, and all he can do is cry out, his voice breaking.

His hands move without any conscious direction from his brain—from her thighs to her waist, up her back, and around her bottom, feeling her curves and all the warm, soft flesh. His neck stretches back as she rides faster, and she leans forward to delicately bite his collarbone, her nails scratching across his chest. 

He palms her breasts and she lays a hand over one of his, bracing her other on his chest as she moves over him and gasps his name. He strains to open his eyes, fighting the need to release and moans loudly when she rolls her hips in a movement just right, taking him in so deeply.

Then she moves his hands, one to hold her hip, and slides the other down from her breast, across her belly, down to where they are joined. At the first brush of his fingertip, her over-sensitized body jerks and she moans, so Riario does it again to the rhythm she shows him. She is moving slower and rocking back and forth more than up and down, and he doesn't know how much longer he can hold on when she gasps louder and he feels her clench, falling apart again on him. He grits his teeth and stops moving as she rides out her pleasure.

But she catches her breath quickly and smiles brightly down at him without pulling away. “Now it's your turn, my dear. I want to see you let go fully for once.”

And he does, catching her off guard when he rolls her beneath him and sinks into her fully. She laughs a relaxed little sound and wraps her legs around his waist, urging him into the fast rhythm he needs. Riario finishes with a low groan that feels ripped out of his very soul and comes harder than he thinks he ever has before.

She holds onto him for long moments after, letting him burrow his face into the richness of her hair and neck. Riario lets her cradle him until he grows soft and shifts his pelvis away, but he still cannot bear to leave the safety of her embrace, even when some tears find their way out of his eyes.

She finally kisses the top of his head. “Now that wasn't so bad, was it?”

Riario chokes then laughs and whatever wetness she may feel against her skin will disappear as he rolls away further and she doesn't mention it.

“We can do this, Girolamo,” she says when he is lying next to her. “We can take solace in one another. It's an arrangement that could be beneficial to both of us.”

“I am afraid I cannot,” he whispers.

She sighs. “What am I to do with you?”

Riario can't speak, can only open an arm, and it is she who curls into him this time, head on his chest, snuggled tightly against his body. He can't help but notice her head is directly over his heart, and he wonders if it is whispering to her, betraying his secrets of how he cares for her, but yes, for others too—first Zita and then Leonardo, although that emotion is better left unnoticed and ignored. 

But pushing those feelings down, as he always does, he concentrates only on the woman in his arms. She is strong yet tender. Her strength comes from a completely different place than any Riario has ever known.

“You are like a reed,” he murmurs, almost without realizing he says it aloud. But Laura hears and lifts herself onto her elbow to peer down at him.

“Really, Girolamo, most men compare fair ladies to beautiful or exotic flowers, so tell me why exactly I am a water weed?”

He laughs before he can help himself, and she claws her nails delicately but pointedly down his chest. He takes the hint and stops laughing, catching her hand and pressing kisses to it before he explains.

“There is an old proverb: the reed bends but the olive tree breaks. You are strong but in a far different way than I. You bend and sway to ride out the storm, doing whatever it takes to survive, and in the end, you may be bruised but you are still standing. Whereas my show of strength, it is only a brittle veneer. When I am faced with the greatest tribulations, it appears that I can only break.”

Laura looks at him for a long moment with that expression on her face that she often wears when she looks at Riario. He still cannot quite define it, but of late, it seems even more sad and heartbroken. She leans down and kisses him then whispers, “It may not be a typical compliment, but it certainly does the job.”

He smiles against her lips as she kisses him then lays down with him again. 

“I don't know what to do now,” he admits in a quiet voice.

“You will do the right thing; you always do,” she assures him. 

He is still wide-awake, staring at the ceiling of the tent, when he feels her body relax into sleep, still curled tightly against him.

His thoughts swirl as he considers what Laura had said about Leonardo. Although he spurns the very thought of what she had suggested, he feels Laura's soft curves fitting against him, small against his body. She does not have strong, large hands capable of pulling him to his feet where he could meet the eyes of one as tall and broad as he.

Those ideas circle back to thoughts of sin which bring him back to his faith and his need to make amends for everything evil he has done. How could he ever be good enough for Laura or for anyone if he couldn't admit and pay the penalty for his sins?

His arm tightens around her even as sunrise grows nearer, and he can think only of the women he has betrayed. Zita, the one who had cared for him and asked for nothing in return, but who he had killed for Leonardo in a gesture that somehow feels meaningless now. Clarice, the one who he had once respected, but then killed mercilessly all at the behest of a group he had let control him. His mother, the one he had never known but had killed just to gain favor with his father.

Women he has failed. He couldn't protect any of them. 

Now, the woman he cares for, who confounds him, who more than matches him in courage and wit—he wants to protect her. But instead, partly because of him, Florence has withdrawn from the Crusade and the war, and along with it, most of the other Italian forces. It seems like Italy must fall to the Turks. He cannot stand what he has done and all the consequences of his actions. 

Then a nebulous plan begins to take shape. Maybe he can still protect Laura. Maybe, if he goes back to Lorenzo, confesses what he has done, admits the truth. Maybe he can make amends and hope for the punishment for himself, not the Crusade, and secure Florence as an ally.

Even if it means sacrificing himself, maybe he can spare Laura more pain. Maybe he can protect her in a way he couldn't protect Zita. If he doesn't gain more forces for their army, he knows she will fight alone. But without Florence and its allies, the army—and Laura—will fall.

He slides from under her and reassures her with a soft kiss when she grumbles sleepily. He closes his eyes and breathes in her scent one more time. When she wakes, he will be gone, back to Florence to face Lorenzo and whatever judgment he decrees. May God have mercy on his soul.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading, and if you have any suggestions for additional tags or warnings, please let me know!


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